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BY THE SAME AUTHOR 



The Old-Fashioned Garden and Other rerses 

(out of print) 

The Brandywine 

Illustrated by Robert Shaw $o-5o 

Swarthmore Idylls 

Illustrated by Robert Shaw i^o-So 

In a Brandywine Harvest Field. $0-25 

In Memory of Whittier 

Illustrated %^-S'^ 

Brandywine Days, or The Shepherd' s Hour-Glass 

Illustrated $i'5o 

In preparation : 

Collected Poems 

Any of the above sent postpaid on receipt of price 

THE BIDDLE PRESS 
^ I o I o Cherry Street 

Philadelphia 



OLD QUAKER 
MEETING-HOUSES 




■^ 



OLD QUAKER 
MEETING-HOUSES 

BY 

John Russell Hayes 

Second Edition, Revised and Enlarged 
With 166 Illustrations 



•/ love Quaker ways and Quaker worship''' 

— Charles Lamb 



THE BIDDLE PRESS 

PHILADELPHIA 
1911 






Copyright 1909 
By John Russell Hayes 



TO 

Joseph S. Walton 

Kindest of friends 
Truest of Friends 



CONTENTS 

Page 

Old Quaker Meeting-Houses 7 

Old Concord Meeting 47 

Old Kennett Meeting-House 51 

"A Haunt of Ancient Peace" 55 

Old Memories, — New Consecration 59 

Ercildoun Meeting 63 

At London Grove Quarterly Meeting 65 

At Plymouth Meeting 67 

In Swarthmore Meeting 70 

West Chester Meeting-Housc 72 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



Abington, Pa. 

Alloways Creek, Han- 
cocks Bridge, N. J. 

Amesbury. Mass. 

Bart, Pa. 

Bear Gap, Pa. 

Benjamlnville, 111. 

Birmingham, Pa. 

Blue River. 

Bordentown, N. J. 

Bristol, Pa. 

Buckingham, Pa. 

Burlington, N. J. 

Byberry, Pa. 

Cain, 

Camden, N. J. 

Cape May, N. J. 

Catawissa, Pa. 

Chester, Pa. 

Chesterfield, 

Chappaqua, N. Y. 

Center, Christiana 
Hundred, Del. 

Clinton Corners, N. 
Y. 

Coldstream, Ontario. 

Chichester, Pa. 

Clear Creek, 111. 

Concordville, Pa. 

Cornwall, N. Y. 

Conanicut, 

Concord, near Cole- 
rain, Ohio. 

Darby. Pa. 

Darlington, Md. 

Crosswicks, N. J. 

Doe Run or Derry, 
Pa. 

Doylestown, Pa. 

Drumore, Pa. 

East Branch, N. J. 

East Nottingham, 

Easton, Md. 

Easton, N. J. 

Ellicott City. Md. 

Ercildoun, Pa. 

Eversham, N. J. 

Fair Hill, Phila. 

Falls, Pa. 

Fallowfleld, Pa. 

Flushing, L. I. 

Farmington, Pa. 

Frankford, Phila., 
Pa. 

Germantown, Pa. 

Girard Avenue, 
Phila. 

Goshen, Pa. 

Grange, Ireland. 

Granville. N. Y. 

Green Street, Phila. 

Gwvnedd, Pa. 

Haddonfleld, N. J. 

Haverford, Pa. 



Highland, 
Homeville, Pa. 
Hopewell, Va. 
Hockessln, Del. 
Horsham, Pa. 
Jericho, N. Y. 
Jordans, England. 
Kennett Square, Pa. 
Lambertville. N. J. 
Langhorne, Pa. 
Lansdowne, Pa. 
Lincoln, Va. 
London, Grove, Pa. 
Little Creek, 

near Dover, Del. 
Lower Greenwich, 

N. J. 
Maiden Creek, Pa. 
Makefield, Pa. 
Malvern, Pa. 
Manhasset, L. I. 
Mansfield, N. J. 
Maple Grove, Ind. 
Marietta, Iowa. 
Marlborough, Pa. 
Matinecock, L. I. 
Medford, N. J. 
Merion, Pa. 
Middletown, Pa. 
Mill Creek. Del. 
Millville, Pa. 
Milton, Ind. 
Moorestown. N. J. 
Mount, N. J. 
Mount Holly. N. J. 
Mount Pleasant, 

Ohio. 
Nantucket, Mass. 
Neck. Md. 
New Garden, Pa. 
Newtown, Pa. 
Newtown Square, 

Pa. 
Nine Partners, 
Norristown, Pa. 
Northwest Fork, 

Md. 
.Odessa, Del. 
Old Concord. Pa. 
Old Kennett, Pa. 
Old Radnor, Ithan, 

Pa. 
Old Springfield, 



Id Spr 

N. J. 



Old Westbury, L. I. 
Orange Grove. 

Pasadena, Cal. 
Oswego, N. Y. 
Parkersville, Pa. 
Pawling, N. Y. 
Pendleton, Ind. 
Penn Hill, Pa. 
Pennsburg, Pa. 
Pennsgrove, Pa. 



Pilesgrove, N. J 
Pine Grove, Md. 
Plainfleld. N. J. 
Plumstead, Pa, 
Plymouth. Pa. 
Preston Patricks, 

England. 
Providence, Pa. 
Purchase, N. Y. 
Quaker Street, 

N. Y. 
Quakertown, Pa. 
Race Street, Phila. 
Rancocas, N. J. 
Randolph, Dover. 

N. J. 
Reading, Pa. 
Richland, Pa. 
Roaring Creek, Pa. 
Romansville, Pa. 
Sadsbury, Pa. 
Salem, N. J. 
Sandy Spring, Md. 
Schuylkill, Pa. 
Scipio, N. Y. 
Short Creek, 

Emerson, Ohio. 
Shrewsbury, 
Solebury, Pa. 
Squan, N. J. 
Stroudsburg. Pa. 
Stanton, Del. 
Swarthmore, Pa. 
Near Swedesboro, 

N. J. 
Trenton, N. J. 
Unlonville, Pa. 
Upper Dublin, Pa. 
Upper Greenwich, 

N. J. 
Upper Springfield, 

N. J. 
Uwchlan, Lionville, 

Pa. 
Vincenttown, N. J. 
Warminster, Pa. 
Waterford, Va. 
Waynesville, Ohio. 
West Chester, Pa. 
West Grove, Ohio. 
West Liberty, Iowa. 
West Meeting House, 

Alliance, Ohio. 
West Nottingham, 
Westfield, near 

Camden, Ohio. 
West Philadelphia, 

Phila. 
Wilmington, Del. 
Woodbury, N. J. 
Woodstown, N. J. 
Woolwich, N. J. 
Yardleyvllle, Pa. 
Wrightstown, Pa. 



/SEE them gray among their ancient acres. 
Severe of front, their gables lichen-sprinkled, — 
Like gentle-hearted, solitary Quakers, 
Grave and religious, with kind faces wrinkled, — 
Serene among their memory-hallowed acres. 

Madison Cawein 



OLD QUAKER MEETING-HOUSES 
I 

XLOVE old Meeting-houses, — how my heart 
Goes out to those dear silent homes of prayer 
With all their quietude and rustic charm, 
Their loved associations from old days, 
Their tranquil and pathetic solitude, 
Their hallowed memories! O I could roam 
Forever in old Quaker neighborhoods 
And muse beneath the oaks and sycamores 
That shade those quiet roofs, the evergreens 
That guard the lowly graves, — and meditate 
Upon the kindly hearts that softly sleep 
Beneath the violets and wandering vines 
And mossy turf, the kindly hearts and true 
That in old years gone by were wont to come 
To First-day and to Mid-week Meeting here 
To worship and to pray and find new strength 
For daily duties. Many a tranquil face 
I see in fancy as I ponder here, — 
The blessed mothers with their eyes of love 
And tenderest sympathy, the fathers kind 
And serious and generous-souled to all. 
And hosts of rosy boys and budding girls — 
The youthful scions of old Quaker stock. 

[7] 



The great old trees around the Meeting-house, 
Hoar patriarchs of eld, chant low to me 
Their centuried recollections of the sires 
Who tilled the far-spread farms that lie around. 
And matrons who have made, in years long gone. 
These grey farm-houses centers of true peace 
And friendly cheer, in days when son to son 
Succeeded, and the ancient well-loved farms 
Became ancestral lands round which were twined 
What love, what veneration, what deep faith! 

O mighty oaks and noble sycamores, 

With trunk moss-silvered and with lichened limb, 

Breathe soft to me the storied memories 

And treasured records of the long rich years 

That blessed the Meeting-house at London Grove 

Gazing across the fertile townships there, — 

A grand old house of grand old memories. 

Tell me of Salem near the river shore 

Far in south Jersey, with its giant oak, 

Type of its people's age-long strength and charm; 

Of Lincoln in Virginia's tranquil dales; 

Of Centre and of genial Rising Sun ; 

Of that old Meeting-house at Wilmington, 

A peaceful island 'mid the city's noise; 

Of little ancient solitary Cain 

Dreaming upon its solitary hill; 

Of Kakiat and Schuylkill, — old Dutch names; 

Of Purchase 'neath its mighty sycamores. 

Where ^old-time Quaker kindliness prevails; 



[8] 



Wyoming and Odessa, quaint old shrines; 

Poughkeepsie, steadfast, friendly and antique; 

Of Newtown's cheerful, sunny Meeting-house; 

Tell me of Ercildoun so friendly-kind; 

Of dear Penn Hill, precious in memory; 

Of Concord high among the peaceful farms, 

"The mother fond whom many hearts revere, 

Since from her fold they went to bless the world 

With kindled lights of Peace and hallowed Love"; 

Of Warminster among the maple shades; 

Of Gwynedd in the old Welsh settlement, 

Heart of a region where old faith still lives. 

And old tradition and old friendliness; 

Of Warrington among the ancient woods. 

Where Friends from Ireland worshipped in old days; 

And Langhorne in its friendly neighborhood. 

O mighty oaks and lordly sycamores. 

Ye venerable warders, tell to me 

What happiness, what sorrows cluster round 

Solebury's Meeting "sacrosanct with love," 

Where late we laid one noble soul to rest 

After a rich full life of blessedness; 

"The Light's great peace upon each fervent face," — 

Yea, such the Light he knew and followed well! 

Tell me, great trees that shade the quiet roofs 
And guard the lowly graves among the grass. 
Tell me of all the simple country faith 
And grace and kindliness that long have blest 
The old-time Quaker colonies afar — 
In fertile Indiana's sunny glades, 

[9] 



In Loudoun's meadows warm and dreamy-fair, 

In old Long Island and in Canada, 

And every region where our Faith endures. 

Love links us all across the sundering leagues. 

Love makes us brothers in our cherished creed 

In many an ancient Quaker neighborhood, 

In many a well-loved kindly Meeting-house 

Far up and down the land, where'er we come 

And gather in the peaceful First-day morns. 

Waiting in quietude upon the Lord, 

Waiting and praying, — "Children of the Light." 



[10] 



II 



FAIR First-day mornings, steeped in summer calm 
Warm, tender, restful, sweet with woodland balm. 
Came to him, like some mother-hallowed psalm. 

There, through the gathered stillness multiplied 
And made intense by sympathy, outside 
The sparrows sang, and the gold-robin cried, 

A-swing upon his elm. A faint perfume 
Breathed through the open windows of the room 
From locust-trees heavy with clustered bloom. 

Whittier 



II 

I LOVE old Meeting-houses ; — O what charm, 
What tender benediction and what peace 
Dwell in the very sunlight streaming down 
Across their quiet aisles! An ancient calm 
And phantom fragrance fill the sun-lit air 
That shimmers from the softly-humming stove 
In winter days and gives a dreamy grace 
And radiance to the far-off snowy hills 
And old homesteads and sleepy villages 
And lonely woods seen through the little panes. 
And in the golden summer First-day morns 
How sweet the drowsy air that softly flows 
Through open windows from the harvest fields 
And garden walks, scenting the quiet house 
With fragrance faint of honeysuckle vines 
And pungent clover-tops and spicy pinks ! 

The winter sunlight and the flower-sweet air 

Of golden summer sabbaths add a grace, 

An unsuspected solemn spiritual charm, 

To all the blessed meditations there 

And tranquil thoughts; they are the visible form. 

Harmonious with inward righteousness. 

That heighten, strengthen, make it fair to all. 

O can there be perfection of the soul 

[13] 



If God's sweet sunshine smiling down from heaven, 
Or birds and flowers beneath the tranquil blue, 
Meet no response? I cannot think it so. 
How poor of spirit he whose heart warms not 
O'er the calm beauty and benignity 
That musical silence and sweet country peace 
And balmy odors lend to those still hours 
In old-time Meeting-houses! 

Well I know 
What dignity breathes from the lofty space 
And amplitude of hospitality 
In these old-fashioned simple Quaker shrines ! 
Most friendly seems the long, high, sturdy roof. 
Most friendly the all-welcoming old walls, 
Seen through the sheltering trees across the hills. 
As driving cheerily the families come 
To this sequestered sanctuary dear. 
Forgetful of the week's routine and trials. 
To find fresh consolation and fresh peace. 
— I love those spacious and all-welcoming walls 
Built for whole countrysides to gather there; 
They seem the very soul and warm dear heart 
Of all the Quaker region, — every hearth 
And chimney-nook and cosy family room 
In all the old farm-houses round about 
Find here their essence and their sum of warmth 
And human consecration kind and true, — 
So strongly knit is the old Meeting-house 
With every neighborly and friendly tie. 



[14] 



So seems the Meeting sober and benign 

Of calm Old Kennett by the country road, 

Ancient and storied, — from the days of Penn 

To ours, a home of deepest Quaker peace. 

So seems the Meeting at dear Nottingham, 

In Calvert's province founded long ago. 

Child of New Garden in Penn's ancient shire, 

So peaceful, kindly, and so well-beloved; 

Such, Christiana, and New York's calm house, 

Peaceful alike 'mid streets or rural fields; 

Such, old, old Flushing, simple, venerable. 

Sad with great memories of the bygone years; 

Such, ivied Abington's serene old house, — 

How spacious and all-welcoming its walls. 

How steeped in antique calm the air that flows 

Around that ample, cheery Quaker shrine ! 

What sweet remembrance wreathes round every name, 

What reverence, what tenderness, what love! 

And like to these and equally endeared 

The Meetings with melodious Indian names. 

Or titles drawn from forms of stream and field. 

Orchard and lawn and hill and shadowy wood: — 

Old Octoraro's simple woodland fane, 

Manhassett, Saratoga, Manasquan 

Where good Job Scott attended meeting once. 

That Friend so "deep in heavenly mysteries;" 

Oswego, quaint Hockessin's little shrine. 

Lone Catawissa's olden log-built house, 

Rancocas with its walls of antique brick, 

Miami, Chappaqua, Greenfield, Short Creek, 

[15] 



Mansfield and Little Falls and Waterford, 
Peach Pond with all its quaint simplicity, 
And Little Creek so ancient and serene; 
Mount Holly by our sainted Woolman's home, 
Coldstream, Westfield, and Plumstead quaint and old; 
Fairhill, in whose green shade was laid to rest 
Lucretia Mott; Whitewater, Haverford, 
Old Springfield, Valley, Ridge, and Mullica Hill, 
Pleasant Fawne Grove, and White Plains well-beloved, 
Quaint Amawalk, Doe Run, and Dunning's Creek, 
Green Plain where gather many gentle Friends, 
Forest and Roaring Creek and Orchard Park, 
Antique Mill Creek, Eastland, and Hancock's Bridge, 
Deer Creek, West Grove the olden, dear Woodlawn, 
Bear Gap, Pipe Creek, and Richland far away. 
Friendly Pennsgrove and dearly-loved Broad Creek, 
And Brooklyn, stronghold of most kindly Friends. 

— Forever could I roam, forever muse 
Around these olden haunts, forever dream 
Upon the dear hearts sleeping silently 
Below the violets and the tangled grass. 
Where weep the rains and sob the murmuring leaves 
And chant the wistful birds at vesper hour. 



[16] 



Ill 



A SIMPLE country meeting-house, 
^1. Roofed in with mossy stone. 
Built in the days of Fox and Penn, 
All grey and lichen-grown. 

And round about, the old Friends sleep. 

Grave women, earnest men. 
Who kept the faith 'mid hate and scorn 

In the brave days of Penn. 

If love and faith and dauntless truth 

Can shed an influence round. 
Then these are consecrated walls. 

And this is holy ground/ 

Fanny Peirson 



Ill 

I LOVE old Meeting-houses: — where on earth 
Is more of gracious charm and piety 
And saintly goodness seen than gathers here 
In quiet First-day meetings? Many a child, 
I know, is stirred to life-long righteousness 
By sight and memory of the dignity 
And peaceful spiritual beauty in the forms 
And faces of the venerable sires 
And placid grand-dames in the gallery seats. 
Wrapt round with tranquil sweet solemnity 
And peace and gentleness, they represent 
The Quaker faith made visible to all, 

*One such there was whose memory is most dear: — 

Friendly of soul was she, and all who came 

Within the sunlight of her kindliness 

Were richer for her friendship and her love. 

We say the saints have gone from earth long since ; 

But she, I think, was saintly, — if to be 

Devoted to high truth, to hear from heaven 

The Voice ineffable, and tell its words 

With pleading power and fervent eloquence 

To us who listened to her ministry. 

To live a blameless life, and shed around 

♦Lydia Heald Price 

[19] 



Sweet peace and friendliness and gracious cheer, — 
If this be saintliness, the gift was hers. 
God sends such souls among us now and then 
To show that heaven is not remote and strange, 
But here about us on this beauteous earth; 
And never can discouragement or gloom 
Becloud our vision while companioned here 
With friends like her, whose simple kindliness 
And cheering love seem touched with grace divine. 

And many a kindly reverend good old man 

Of equal saintship have I known, now gone 

Unto his heavenly home. One such there was* 

Whose blameless tranquil years reached nigh five-score 

Before they laid him in the quiet earth 

Among the hills above the Brandywine, 

At little, lonely, well-loved Romansville. 

He was a farmer of the olden school, 

A man of friendly heart and wholesome cheer, 

Sturdy and steadfast through all trials; and now 

In his old age a noble veteran. 

He sat among the elders much revered, 

A true old-fashioned Friend ; all ages loved 

His converse, for his venerable head 

Belied his youthful heart, — he was as fresh 

In sympathy as any boy, and drew 

Young folk and children round him by the charm 

Of cheerfulness unfailing, and his kind 

Warm interest in all their joys and griefs. 

•A composite memory of John Worth and Jacob Hayes 



[20] 



— O when they laid him in the quiet earth, 

I thought, in childish fashion, that no more 

Of kindness lived, now this good man was gone! 

Among the ancient graves at Solebury 

We lately laid, — upon a wintry day 

Of weeping clouds and sadly moaning winds 

And sighing trees, — the earthly form of one* 

Beloved beyond the usual lot of men. 

So venerable and benign, so kindly he. 

So cheerful-hearted and so young of soul, — 

He seemed a Quaker of the olden time. 

Gentle and steadfast, honorable and true, 

Grounded in virtue and integrity. 

And guided ever by an inner light; 

Yet no stern and unbending puritan; — 

We knew him genial, friendly, meekly wise. 

Childlike in his simplicity, naive 

And quaintly humorous, — such a man, I think. 

As Horace might have loved, so well he blent 

Sound lore and home-bred sense, contentment sweet 

And fine humanity. Yea, he had learned 

These Quaker virtues at his mother's knee; 

And through the long course of his fruitful life 

Her maxims he remembered; and in him 

Were human power and grace of soul so fused 

That long his happy memory shall endure 

Engraven in our hearts who loved him well, — 

The good old man, so venerable and benign, 

So cheerful-hearted and so young of soul. 

♦Edward Hicks Magill 

[21] 



And like to these dear well-remembered Friends, 

I think of many another: — Mary Hicks, 

A woman of great heart and sympathies 

And cheerful sweetness, meeting every cross 

With Christian fortitude, a friend indeed 

To all the poor and suffering ones around her,— 

A fountain she of helpfulness and love. 

— From childhood recollection still I see 
That tenderest and kindliest of men. 
Whose comforting, benign and winning grace, 
His gentle ministry and mild appeal. 
His voicing of his visions and his hopes, 
Must live indelibly in many hearts, — 
Darlington Hoopes; — he truly seemed to me 
An old-time Quaker of the purest type. 

— And I recall a man of sunny faith 
And charity unbounded, — Cyrus Linton, 
Who left the memory of an honest life 
Of cheery, friendly ways and warm affection, 
With all who knew him; his the helping hand 
Toward higher manhood; his the love of home 
And all that "home" implies, — a noble Friend 
In every noble trait — And Hannah Plummer, 
From her young days of gentle motherhood 
Unto her ripe old age a source of strength 
And wisest counsel; — who can e'er forget 
Her liberal spirit? Comfort flowed from her 
With living force, and many a hopeful life 
Has been enriched by her uplifting power. 



[22] 



Her loving sympathy and friendship firm. 

— And like a sister unto her in spirit 
Seemed Emily Longstreth, that strong, generous soul, 
Whose hand was ever lent to further good, 
To lift the lowly and to aid the sick; 
Her "gentle life with gentlest closing" told, 
More forcefully than words, her nobleness. 

How high a trait is calm sincerity! 

A man of simple heart and steadfast faith 

Seems like a tower of strength, no matter what 

His state, or rich or poor; — such men have lived 

In every Quaker region. One of such 

Was Hiram Blackburn, — honest, faithful, true, 

WTiose long, long years were passed among the scenes 

Of childhood's home, and close to his loved Meeting 

And lifelong friends. — And such was William Webb, 

Most gentle and affectionate of heart. 

Of humor quaint, and genial comradeship; 

His kindliness I never can forget, — 

A true, good Friend, a man of noble soul. 

— Sincerity was notable indeed 
Among the traits that marked the character 
Of Lydia Hall ; sincerity was hers. 
And simple peace of heart and homely wisdom. 
With youth she had a perfect sympathy. 
And patiently and lovingly she wrought 
In their behalf through all her length of days. 

[23] 



— ^Who may compute the influence for good 

Of such a life, who reckon up the sum 

Of all the kindness and benignity, 

The meek and unobtrusive helpfulness. 

The calm rich peace, the charm, the gentle grace! 

The Friends that I have here portrayed are types 
Of such as every Meeting-house has known; 
Their names are written on the lowly slabs 
Beneath the solemn cypresses and firs, 
Wept o'er by sobbing rains and rose-leaves strewn 
In grieving autumn eves by wandering winds, 
In every Quaker grave-yard, and their fame 
Lives in the loving records of the heart 
Immortally. O wondrous power of goodness 
Surpassing every other human gift, — 
Goodness that bringeth heaven down to earth 
And linketh mortal man with angels here! 



[24] 



IV 



5PIRIT of Wordsworth, with me still 
Upon the plain, upon the hill, 
I find my purpose wholly bent 
To be to-day thine instrument. 

Philip Henry Savage 



IV 

I LOVE old Meeting-houses; — how remote 
From all the world's loud tumult do they seem!- 
Islands of blissful peace to lull tired souls 
Tossed on the seas of daily circumstance 
And seeking friendly haven after storm ; 
Sequestered bowers sweet with holy balm, 
To shelter and to shield. No words may tell 
The pathos of their centuried peacefulness. 
Tranquil and holy; — here have women wept 
Above their loved-ones, strong men here were bowed 
By piteous grief, in those grey ruthless hours 
When in the silent earth they laid to rest 
Their precious dear ones, — while the old house gloomed 
In silent sympathy, and all its trees, 
Its drooping roses and its ancient shrubs 
And clinging ivies sighed in unison 
A requiem for vanished loveliness, 
Or worth and noble charm too early gone, 
Or goodly veterans called to their long home. 
The memories are sacred that enshrine 
Those sweet-sad, tragic, grey and mournful hours; 
But with each mellowing year that mellows grief 
And reconciles us to the Father's will, 
The dear old Meeting-house grows more endeared 
And gathers sentiment unto itself, 
Deep sentiment and reverence and love, 

[27] 



*One Meeting-house I love to call to mind, 

Endeared by long ancestral ties, where late 

We came, descendants of the sires of old, 

To celebrate in autumn's pensive hours 

The hundredth year of that old Meeting-house. 

In many a loving heart that golden day 

Has now^ become a blessed memory 

Of dying woodlands flaming mile on mile. 

Of great cloud-fleets above the sleeping hills, 

And old-time peacefulness and love and charm. 

And through it all, one strong calm voice rings clear. 

His voice who seemed that centuried day, when all 

Our thoughts were of the Past, to sound once more 

The clarion call of sturdy Fox or Penn, 

Or Woolman's pleading pathos grave and sweet, — 

With homely simile and pithy phrase 

Stirring our youth to enter once again 

The lists where long ago our fathers strove 

For truth and faith and freedom of the soul. 

In truth he seemed of that pure brotherhood 

Of old-time Quakers, — our Idealist, 

Our Optimist, — I love to call him so, — 

Blending the vigor of the elder day 

With some fine grace caught from our own rich age. 

And fusing all with warm poetic glow 

As of some memory Wordsworthian. 

It could not other be, since once he roamed 

♦Penn Hill, Lancaster County, Penna. 

[28] 



On Wordsworth's hills and mused the seer's high song 

Amid Westmoreland's sacred solitudes. 

— Such memories of that centuried day are mine, 

That golden day of peacefulness and love, 

Of dying woodlands flaming mile on mile, 

And great cloud-fleets above the sleeping hills. 



[29] 



AND here, in this dim raftered house of prayer, 
JTm. Where the bee drones against the sunny pane. 
And scent of old-time flowers lies on the air. 
And each worn bench recalls the Past again. 
Now throng the shadowy figures through the gloom. 
In shimmering gray, with gentle footfall go 
To take familiar station in the room. 
The sweet-voiced speakers in accustomed place. 
The quiet forms, expectant, ranged below. 
The Light's great peace upon each fervent face. 

Ely John Smith 



XLOVE old Meeting-houses ; — 'tis a joy 
To look across the wistful memoried years 
And summon back the faces kind and calm 
Of old-time Friends, who gathered 'neath these roofs 
In bygone days, who loved these ancient seats 
Of fragrant wood, and loved the sheltering trees 
And tender violets among the grass 
As still we love. They long have gone from earth, 
Dear, venerable, cheery old-time Friends, — 
The peace of God upon each kindly face, — 
But in the heart their recollection lives, 
Their tender loving-kindness still survives, 
To sweeten and console; their voices speak 
Immortally across the vanished years. 
Immortally in sacred memory; 
And, hallowed by death's consecrating touch. 
Their messages bring solace to the soul 
More deep, I must believe, than living words. 

O friends, I would that we might cherish well 

Their sure and simple faith, their maxims quaint, 

Their piety, their saintly innocence, 

Their creed untroubled by the doubts that vex 

Our restless age, the questionings that rob 

Our hearts of their just dues of peace and joy. 

We call them "old-time Friends," and such they were, 

[31] 



It is the noblest title we can give, 
For in the mellow retrospect of years 
They seem to move in monumental peace, 
And, like old portraits, keep a lasting charm, 
A type unchanging, since mortality 
Has been put off, and but the soul remains, 
Shining through kindly eyes and wistful smiles 
In old daguerreotypes cherished so well. 

With tender memoried faces such as these 
We people the old benches where to-day 
We sit with living friends, and musingly 
Find in the well-loved faces round us here 
Echoes and hints and dim resemblances 
Inherited from those of yore, that make 
The line continuous, the tides from soul 
To soul unbroken in their mystic flow. 
— O Power ineffable, thus to maintain 
The spirit's kinship through the dateless years. 
Preserving the imperishable type. 
And linking with us in our mortal years 
The sainted and the loved of long ago! 



[32] 



VI 



OLD homes! old hearts! Upon my soul forever 
Their peace and gladness lie like tears and laughter; 
Like love they touch me, through the years that sever, 
With simple faith; like friendship, draw me after 
The dreamy patience that is theirs forever. 

Madison Cawein 



VI 

XLOVE old Meeting-houses ; — simple shrines 
That hold the history of our noble faith, 
Strong arks that down the rivers of old time 
Have borne the symbols of our precious Past. 
Ah me, their very names are wondrous dear! — 
Kindly ancestral English names beloved, 
All redolent of English honesty 
And charm and worth, — brought hither by our sires 
To keep them minded of their English homes 
Among the moorlands or by tranquil streams, 
Their "leighs" and "tons," their "moors" and "byes" and 

"fields," 
"Boroughs" and "villes," and "chesters," "streets" and 

"fords." 
Mute history lies enshrined in every name, — 
Yardley and Yarmouth, Bristol, Burlington, 
Oxford and Middletown and Little Britain, 
Chichester, Woodstown, pleasant Farmington, 
Old Quaker Street and kindly Mickleton, 
Warm-hearted Millville, lonely Marlborough, 
Old Chester, hard by Penn's first landing-place 
In this new world; Medford and Lambertville, 
Fairfax and Preston, Greenwich, Haddonfield, 
And drowsy Stanton 'mid the drowsy fields. 
Old Horsham dreaming in the hickories' shade, 

[35] 



Easton where Fox the Founder long ago 

Preached to a "heavenly meeting" gathered there, 

Bloomfield and Chesterfield and Fallsington, 

Uxbridge and Cain and tranquil Byberry, 

Old Darby, Mendon, peaceful Providence; 

Wrightstown, a stately and a storied house 

Whose members lived in friendly harmony 

With the Indians of yore ; and Plainfield old, 

Peaceful with memories of a noble past; 

And old, old Shrewsbury where Fox once held 

"A precious meeting," quiet Fallowfield, 

And lonely Sadsbury so desolate 

Beside the lonely highway strewn with leaves, 

Springboro, Homeville with its kindly name, 

Makefield of gentlest memory, lone Stroudsburg 

Among the mountains, stately Woodbury, 

Doylestown so rich in friendliness, Granville, 

Old-fashioned Crosswicks, Frankford, genial Bart, 

West Chester in the kindly dear old town; 

And little York, most like the small and quaint 

Grey Meeting-house in Furness' grey fields 

By centuried Swarthmoor Hall, where Margaret Fell 

Through wondrous years kept warm the friendly hearth. 

Swarthmoor! — Ah how my dreaming fancy wakes 
At that name loved by Friends around the world; 
Musing I wander from that ancient Hall 
To many a Meeting-house in England's shires 
Or in green lovely Ireland. Well I know 
What kindliness, what old-world charm, abide 

[36] 



At Henley by slow Thames, at Huddersfield, 

At Kendal and at Keswick in the vales 

That Wordsworth loved, at Ackworth long held dear, 

At Oxford and at Morland and at Lynn, 

At brooding wave-washed Saltburn-by-the-Sea, 

At pleasant Darlington, at Thornton Marsh, 

At lonely-hearted Little Eccleston, 

At Cartmel nigh to those romantic fells 

Where great Helvellyn's foot-hills face the sea. 

At Warwick in Old England's midmost shire, 

At Walton-on-the-Naze so quaintly named, 

At Street in Somerset's delightful fields. 

At Chipping Norton 'mid the Oxford hills; 

And Little Jordans, that most hallowed spot, 

Where loved and saintly Penn was laid to rest 

Beside the loved and saintly Peningtons. 

In these and kindred fanes of our old faith 

His very spirit breathes who up and down 

The island bore the Light, — great Fox, who preached 

God's everlasting truth and word of life. 

Come to the Light! he cried; wait in the Light, 

That you may grow up in the very Life 

That gave the Scriptures. O how mightily 

Did he beseech! — Dwell, brethren, in that Life 

That leadeth to dominion over evil. 

Most tenderly, most grandly he besought: 

Witness the Seed, witness the Christ within; 

Heirs of the promise shall you thus become! 



[37] 



In Ireland well I know what kindliness 

And peaceful charm abide, now as of old, 

At Limerick by Shannon's lordly stream, 

At Ballinderry and at Ballytore, 

At kindly Carlow, and at dear Clonmel 

In Tipperary's dales, at Waterford, 

At Wicklow and "sweet Cork" and old Tramore; 

And up at Lurgan where my fathers dwelt. 

In Armagh 'mid the emerald Irish fields, 

Beneath blue Irish skies (O heart of mine, 

How dreamest thou of those dear fields and skies!) 

By quiet stream or quiet country town. 

Or in old red-brick courts secluded deep 

In hearts of solemn cities vastly old, 

Stands many an antique Old-World Meeting, still. 

Haunted with memory and mystery 

And shadows of the Early Friends, — they touch me 

With wondrous pathos and heart-moving power; 

I cannot voice the magic and the charm 

With which they cry across the wistful years, 

Holy and tender, from the Long Ago; 

I cannot voice the yearning they awake, 

Those ancient Meetings in the Mother Land! 

— O do the fragile balmy blossoms strew 

Their lintels and their lowly burial-stones 

With fragrant petal-drift all April long? 

Do warm rains drip like tears on summer nights? 

Does drear November sway their massive oaks 

And ipoan among their dark and centuried yews? 

[38] 



VII 



AS mountain streams from sudden sources run 
.^M. And calmer grow ere yet they blend in one. 
Then deeper flowing and more reverently 
Yield all their treasure to the parent sea; — 
So holy love in kindred hearts awakes 
And swift, from many lands, one channel takes. 
Whose currents blending deep in silence move 
Toward that great ocean of Abiding Love, 
Our common Father s heart, 

where space and time are not 
And each for each may plead, 

all selfish ends forgot. 

Edith M. Winder 



VII 

I LOVE old Meeting-houses, and could roam 
Forever in old Quaker neighborhoods, 
By peaceful hamlets and high breezy hills 
And dreamy rivers sleeping in the sun. 
— Beneath the noble sycamores and oaks 
That guard those quiet roofs I love to watch 
The Friends arrive and in the shady porch 
Give cheery greetings, and in little groups 
Converse on happenings of the week, or glow 
With kindly tender smiles and wistful words 
O'er "good old days" and memories half-forgot, 
While young folks stray apart, and children seek 
For violets and chase the butterflies. 

Or 'neath the solemn cypresses I roam 
Among the mossy stones, deciphering 
Dim names long weathered by the winter storms 
And April rains, musing upon the folk 
That in old years gone by were wont to come 
To First-day and to Mid-week Meeting here 
To worship and to pray and find new strength 
For daily duties; — and at length pass in 
With all the gathering groups of genial men 
And gentle women, blithesome rosy lads 
And winsome girls, beneath the lofty roof, 

[41] 



And on the long unpainted fragrant seats 

Slow settle into silence, while the bees 

Drone in the panes and glad birds chirp outside; 

And if 'tis Mid-week Meeting, then from far 

Across the fields come sounds of farming toil, 

Of clinking scythes and plowmen's cheery calls 

And wagons slowly creaking. Then it is, 

As musical silence settles o'er the house, 

That our calm worship seems to sanctify 

Each longing soul, each heart athirst for grace. 

As in the ancient Meeting-house we sit. 

Environed round with friendliness and love. 

With stillness and the peace of musing minds, 

Or touched and comforted with eloquence 

And gentle pleading; with the solemn thought 

Of those low graves beneath the murmuring boughs. 

And all they hold of poignant memory, — 

In those most holy hours, does not a Voice 

Unheard by any save the spirit's ear 

Speak to each longing Jieart; does not a Presence 

Unseen by any save the spirit's eye 

Touch every brow with balm beneficent; 

Do not all barriers fade, 'all outward signs 

Seem merely phantom forms, until our souls 

Flow in resistless tide toward the Divine, 

"Toward that great ocean of Abiding Love" — 

As in the ancient Meeting-house we sit 

Environed round with love and friendliness, 

With gentle, gentle faces sweet and pure, 

[42] 



With stillness and the peace of musing minds! 
— Such the sure guidance of the Inner Light, 
Such the companionship and blessed strength 
Of the great Love that holds our yearning hearts. 

On many an azure morn of early spring 

When black-birds piped full sweet among the trees, 

Or in the flower-soft sabbaths of mid-June 

Fragrant with balmy airs, or in the deep 

December silence of a dim white world. 

Have these inflowings heartened and refreshed 

God's children met in quiet worship here. 

Such memories truly make a sacred shrine 

Of each old Meeting-house, — make it as holy 

To our affections and our reverence 

As any grey cathedral to our brethren 

Of faiths more ancient far than ours. 

I yield 
To none in sympathy for those high fanes 
And heaven-aspiring minsters of old lands. 
Whose solemn organ-tones and glorious hymns 
And incense streaming up in mists of gold 
So satisfy devout and simple hearts; 
— ^We all were of the old Church once, and feel 
Some thrill of old allegiance; — yet the calm 
Still air of blessedness and holy peace 
In some old Meeting 'mid its bowering trees, 
Its rambling horse-sheds, and low walls that bound 
Its silent "acre" sweet with tender flowers, 

[43] 



Holdeth for me a pathos beautiful 

And wondrous beyond reach of any words. 

Ye dear old Meeting-houses, thus would one, 

Who long hath loved you deeply, strive to pay 

His tribute to your charm, your ancient peace, 

Your centuried repose, your guardianship 

O'er gracious souls into the twilight gone 

Such long, long years ago ; hoping to wake 

In hearts too soon forgetful of the Past, 

Renewed reliance on your blessed power 

To soothe our anxious and unresting time 

With your serene and spiritual grace. 

Your precious sanctity and ancient charm: — 

Ye loved and quaint old Meeting-houses all, 

Cornwall beneath thy venerable oak; 

Time-honored Plymouth 'mid thy stately trees, 

Hoary of limb and silvered o'er with age; 

Nine Partners, where the blithe and thoughtful lass 

Lucretia Coffin came in school-girl days; 

Menallen, Upper Dublin, loved Drumore, 

Yet dearer for your kindly Irish names; 

Solebury's Meeting "sacrosanct with love;" 

And thou, grey shrine of faith and friendliness 

'Neath Gwynedd's antique oaks; and little Cain 

Sad and deserted on thy lonely hill; 

Thou, Old Blue River, 'mid thy silent graves, 

Brooding in silence on thy memoried past; 

Thou, Pendleton, heart-warm with kindliness; 

Thou, spacious, tranquil, grand old Meeting-house 



[44] 



At London Grove; quaint friendly Birmingham, 

Thou storied shrine; thou, ancient well-loved house 

Where meet the kindly folk of Willistown ; 

Thou, Buckingham, above thy dreamy fields; 

And thou, old Meeting-house at Wilmington, 

A peaceful island 'mid the city's noise; 

Old Jericho where sleeps Elias Hicks; 

Historic Uwchlan quaint and picturesque. 

And tranquil Radnor; and ye, Grampian 

And Sterling, with your honest Scottish names; 

Old Salem with thy monumental oak; 

Lone Cecil musing 'mid the forest flowers; 

Thou, Goshen, home of loving-kindnesses; 

And Macedon Centre, lovable, serene; 

Camden, so peaceful 'mid thy peaceful graves; 

And dear Penn Hill of precious memories; 

And many another which the yearning heart 

Holds dear for recollected happiness 

In hours of meditation and of dream 

Amid your quietude and rustic charm, 

Your fruitful silence and uplifting calm, 

Your tranquil and pathetic loneliness, 

Your dear associations from old days, 

Your sacred and ancestral memories. 

— And ye, old Meetings scattered up and down 

Among old Quaker neighborhoods afar 

In our wide continent; and ye, old shrines 

In those revered ancestral English shires 

And Irish fields, beyond the rolling seas 

That separate our lands but not our love. 

[45] 



OLD CONCORD MEETING 

(1686— 191 1 ) 
Our fathers gathered here long years ago 
To hold communion with the Power divine 
That is within, and over, and around; 
And as they were obedient to the voice 
That spoke unto their inmost souls, they found 
Sweet peace, and strength. 
Leaving behind a priceless heritage 
Of courage, patience, faithfulness and love. 
This heritage is for us to enrich 
And magnify, not merely to enjoy; 
And that we may be wise to know the right. 
And strong to do the work that lies at hand, — 
From the unfailing Source to which they turned 
In prayer, we seek for wisdom, vision, power. 

Elizabeth Lloyd 

I love to ponder the annals of this old house 
Established here on the hills so long ago 
By the prayerful zeal of those far-off Quaker sires. 
I love to read their records; — what steadfast faith, 
What loving-kindness there, what shining deeds! 

Their dust has slept in the earth for many a year, 

And the moss and the ivy long have muffled their graves 

With pensive green, — a token and tender sign 

[47] 



Of the evergreen love we bear those ancient Friends, 
Those hero-hearts of our faith. They were noble and true; 
They humbly asked for the blessing of God on their work 
When they built their Meeting-house. Their old men saw 
Wondrous visions, their young men dreamed high dreams; 
Simple and sturdy and godly folk were they. 

True patriarchs of our faith they seem to me, — 
Pioneer Friends of this new great western world, 
Men and women who came over-sea with Penn, 
They had listened and thrilled to saintly Fox's words 
In English fields; from Fox they had caught the Light; 
And now they sought in this lonely western land 
Freedom to worship, freedom to live and thrive 
Unharassed by hostile mobs Or zealots blind. 

Honor to them who sought no earthly honor! 

Their long-familiar names are indelibly dear. 

Rich with two hundred years of memoried love, — 

Hannum and Marshall, Thatcher, Gilpin and Cloud; 

Chandler and Walter, Palmer and Peirce and Brown, 

Mendenhall and Newlin, Brinton, Pyle; 

Yea, patriarchs of the faith they truly were. 

Who minded the Light and spread the Light abroad 

From their homes 'mid the fruitful orchards and quiet 

farms, — 
These beautiful fields and hills that we see to-day 
Wrapt in the dreamy summer's bounteous charm. 

The vejy name of their settlement tells their tale, — 
Concord, — called from the peaceful harmony 

[48] 



And brotherly love that marked their blessed lives ; 
Concord truly speaks of their tranquil years, 
Their earnest witness against all wordliness, 
Their fervent seeking after the Light of Christ; 
Concord tells of their love of all mankind, 
Their tender care of the lowly and the oppressed, 
Their helpful hands held out to their Indian brothers, 
Their deep concern for setting the black man free. 
These, and a score of kindred kindly deeds. 
Speak with eloquence far above all words 
Of this ancient Concord Meeting and countryside; 
And not alone of this dear old Meeting-house 
And Quaker countryside, but of those that grew 
Under this Mother-Meeting's watchful love, — 
Birmingham on the Brandywine's emerald hills 
Where old-time kindliness still lives to-day, 
The well-loved meeting at ancient Nottingham, 
And Cain high over the Valley's fertile farms. 

Ah me, how we cling to the outward things we love! — 
But the heart of our faith is in homes not built by hands. 
And these old shrines, albeit we cherish them well. 
Must crumble and fall with the all-devouring years 
And their tranquil beauty become but a legend dim. 
Yet Concord's dear, dear name must still endure 
When every brick and shrub and lowly grave 
Has been swept away by the ruthless march of time, — 
Concord, home of our far-off English sires, 
Concord the peaceful, the tranquil, the deeply loved. 



[49] 



OLD KENNETT MEETING-HOUSE 

(1710 — 1910) 

This lonely house beside the lonely road 

Hath looked on other scenes than ours to-day 

Where round us lie the fields of rustling corn 
And verdant pastures sweet with autumn hay, 

Where all the land is wrapt in peaceful dream, 

And every noise and restless care far, far away doth seem. 

Along this ancient road in days of old 

A varied stream of travelers did pass: — 
The sturdy settlers trudging by their teams, 

Grandsire and pioneer and rosy lass, 
Soldiers returning from the border wars. 
And fishermen who sought the way to Maryland's distant 
shores. 

Here jocund hunters journeyed o'er the hills 
With furs and game from out the virgin woods; 

And keen-eyed Indians erect and lithe, 
And silent as their forest solitudes. 

How many a wayfarer, how many a load 

Passed by this ancient Meeting-house along this ancient 
road! 

And twice a week beneath the bowering trees, 
In sober garb, with looks composed and strait, 

[51] 



A gentle company of people came 

And turned their horses' heads within the gate, 
Dismounted at the block, and staid and slow 
Passed to their seats and settled down in row by silent row. 

Silent, — until some strong, clear voice rang out 

And held its listeners in conscious awe. 
Instinct with heaven's visionary fire, 

Or duty's plain inexorable law, — 
A voice whose noble fervor could not be 
The fruit of aught except a life of faithful piety. 

And truly they were faithful, pious folk. 

Those Kennett Quakers of the long ago; 
Read but their names upon these lowly graves, 

Think of the forms whose dust is laid below; 
Muse o'er their memories with grateful tears. 
Those kindly, noble Friends whose names we love through 
all the years! — 

English and Irish Friends of sterling worth. 
The Webbs, the Harlans who from Erin came. 

The Peirces bred in old-world Somerset, 

The Clouds who brought from Calne their honored name, 

The Sussex Wickershams, the Baileys too. 

The Millers who from Ireland their ancient vigor drew. 

Their lines are scattered far across the world. 
And this old house deserted seems and lone; 

Neglect and desolation wrap it round. 
Arid moss and lichen dim each low grave-stone; 

[52] 



A sleepy spot beside the sleepy road, — 

Have silence and forgetfulness made here their sure abode? 

Nay, though the Quaker life of olden time 
No more is seen in weekly gatherings here, — 

In many a heart this ancient house endures, 
To many a heart 'tis still beloved and dear. 

Still cherished as a venerated shrine 

Among the peaceful hills above the peaceful Brandywine. 

Yea, this old house that sleeps through summer suns, 
And dreams through winter nights of star and cold ; — 

What tales of kindliness and worth were ours 
If all its deepest dreams might once be told 

Of those dear souls who sowed in days long past 

Seeds of an influence that shall its latest stone outlast ! — 

How might it tell of many a tender bride 

Who came forth wedded from this old roof-tree; 

Of many a gray-haired veteran might it tell 
Laid 'neath yon shades with sad solemnity, — 

Of family joys and sorrows, smiles and tears, 

And pensive memories hallowed through the lost and long- 
dead years. 

Yet tranquil annals oftenest fill its dreams, 

And noble faces from its vanished days, — 
The Mendenhalls devoted to good works. 

The Passmores and the Woodwards and the Ways; 
The Hueys and Harveys here are known to fame; 
And Lewis, Jacobs, Jenkinson, — Old Kennett loves each 



[53] 



The history of such a Meeting-house 

Is filled with pathos and with peaceful charm; 

It seems the very heart of this old land, 

This land of ancient wood and tranquil farm, 

Of sunny gardens and of singing streams, — 

This old, old Meeting-house with all its memories and 
dreams. 

The history of such a Meeting-house 

If filled with grandeur, beautiful, sublime, 
Rich with the records of the sainted souls 

Who speak to us from out the olden time. 
O may her spirit still all creeds outlast. 
And calm Old Kennett bless our future as she blessed our 
past! 



[54] 



"A HAUNT OF ANCIENT PEACE" 
(Read at the centenary of Willistown Meeting-house) 

A haunt of ancient peace! — 

Well may we call thee so, 
For while the years increase 

And seasons ebb and flow, 
Thou, ancient House, dost seem 
Wrapt in a tranquil dream 

And vision of the days of long ago, 

A vision softly bright 

With faces that are gone, 
Wherein a saintly light 

And calm serenely shone, — 
Dear faces loved of yore 
Whose peace forevermore 

In benediction round these walls is thrown. 

Soft pastoral echoes thrill 

The heart of yonder woods, 
And misty languors fill 

The leafy solitudes. 
The downward sloping year 
Lies drowsed in golden cheer. 

And resteth in her queenliest of moods. 

In yonder hallowed ground 
The cherished fathers sleep, 

[55] 



And o'er each lonely mound 

The gentle flowers weep. 
A pensive stillness there 
Breathes through the autumn air 

And fills the scene with silence calm and deep. 

The fathers sleep; but here 

Their children's children meet; 
Year after quiet year 

They gather seat by seat; 
And many a family name 
Lives on with fragrant fame 

Among the Friends whom here to-day we greet. 

Oft in this peaceful air 

With blessing have been heard 
The purifying prayer, 

The Heaven-guided word ; 
And oft some fervent heart 
Communing here apart, 

As with a sacred leaven hath been stirred. 

Old House, o'er thee hath gone 

A century serene ; 
Thy far-off, peaceful dawn 

No living eye hath seen. 
The human stream hath run 
Through many a sire and son 

Since thou didst rise amid the forest green. 



[56] 



The mild and mellow years 

Have left thee calm and free, 
Through mortal joys and tears 

Enduring tranquilly. 
The infant's dawning breath, 
The darkening hour of death, 

Have been as passing sun and shade to thee. 

Here as in days of old 

Still may the hungry feed, 
Still love the faith we hold, — 

Our sweet and simple creed. 
Here may be given to men 
The zeal of Fox and Penn 

To seek and serve the spirit's inmost need. 

So by this peaceful vale 

While ripening years increase, 
Thy mission shall not fail, 

Thy blessing shall not cease ; 
Thy consecrating calm 
Shall fall like holy balm. 

And thou be still "a haunt of ancient peace. 



[57] 



OLD MEMORIES,— NEW CONSECRATION 
(Read at the Centenary of Little Britain Meeting, 1904) 

Sacred for us this day of memories old, 
Sacred and sweet to gather in this calm 
Serene old meeting-house among the hills 
By silver Conowingo's peaceful stream; 
Sacred and dear this day to meditate 
And muse upon the vanished hundred years. 

Sacred for us are yon low mounds of green 

Where lies the dust of those we loved so well. 

The ancient box-trees and the bright young flowers 

Keep quiet watch ; tenderly, fragrantly, 

In holy solitude they watch the graves 

Of those who perished in their youthful dawn, 

And those who sought at last their mother earth 

After long years, long honorable years 

Rich in good deeds and kindliness and love. 

Surely they know, — those spirits heavenly free, — 

They know the hidden things we may not know 

Until we too must sleep beneath the grass 

To wake in worlds undreamed of ; theirs to know 

Of life and death and vast eternity. 

All reverently we come, yet happily. 
With quiet joy, to hail the hundred years, 

[59] 



The hundred golden autumns, radiant springs, 
Summers and drowsy winters that have gone 
Down to the dim and half-forgotten Past 
Since those grave Quakers of that long-lost time 
Founded this fellowship of worship here 
And gave to Little Britain life and name. 

how the heart doth yearn this centuried day 
For those loved forms and faces, those serene 
Old-fashioned Friends of that old-fashioned age! 

1 seem to see them in their quiet homes 
'Mid these old dreamy Susquehanna's hills. 
Living their simple lives with simple faith: — 
The sweet-faced mothers here among their flowers. 
Their bee-hives and their bowering apple trees, 
Home-loving women, skilled in household craft 
And all the ways of hearty country cheer, 
Making each home its own small happy world. 
And giving to all this countryside its fame 

For comfort, peace and hospitality; — 
The fathers, sterling-hearted kindly men, 
Rich in plain wisdom, rich in helpful deeds, 
Noble and strong and pure, — no neighborhood 
Had goodlier farmers, truer gentlemen: — 
And, fair as young June roses after rain, 
The children, soft-eyed girls and ruddy boys. 
Making these old hills jocund with their song 
And wholesome fun, and all unconsciously 
Through all the long, long golden years of youth 
Building foundations sure of character. 



[60] 



Of usefulness and home-bred honesty. 

O tell me, are they perished then and gone, 

Forever gone those simple days of yore? — 

Nay, much survives; — and never do I come 

To this old w^ell-loved shire of Lancaster 

Sacred and rich in old ancestral ties, 

Here 'mid the Conowingo's dreamy hills. 

But that the dear old-fashioned face of things, — 

The old red houses, locust-shaded lanes, 

Great ample barns and old gnarled cherry trees, 

Soft meadovi^s vt^ith their sunny little streams 

That feed the lovely Susquehanna's tides, 

The very bergamot and purple plox 

And every dear old-fashioned garden flower, — 

Thrills me vt^ith wistful charm ; and I can hear 

Old voices calling from the misty years, 

Old voices calling from beyond the grave, — 

So faint, so sweet, I cannot choose but grieve. 

Yet wandering among these boyhood haunts 
Where cheery welcomes wait and greetings warm, 
And lingering in familiar garden paths. 
Among dim orchard-boughs and grassy lanes, 
A long-lost world comes back ! — ^The dead still live. 
The sire surviveth in the son; there breathe 
From the sweet presences of blooming girls 
The traits of mothers' mothers long ago 
Gone to their heavenly homes. The Past lives on 
And gives the present and the future years 
Blessings unnumbered, — holy legacies! 
[61] 



So on this centuried day we well may pause 
Beside these lowly graves, and in this calm 
Serene old meeting-house with reverent hearts 
Gather to muse on those dear hundred years; 
To-morrow to go forth with hope renewed, 
With faith fresh-fortified, resolved to make,— 
As these loved ones of yore would have it be,- 
From these old memories and sacred ties, 
New strengthening and consecration new! 



[62] 



ERCILDOUN MEETING 
(1811— 1911) 

A hundred years these walls have cast 
Their shadows o'er the sod, 

A hundred years this house hath known 
The blessed peace of God. 

O many are the gentle souls 
Through all the hundred years 

Who blest this peaceful house of prayer 
And loved it through their tears. 

And many are the gentle souls 
Through years remote and old 

Who wept above yon grassy graves 
Where sleep the hearts of gold. 

Ah, though in hours of tenderness 
We think with sorrow deep 

Of all the dear and well-beloved 
Wrapt in eternal sleep, — 

Yet well we know there is no death 

For those who deeply love; 
The limits of this mortal life 

Their spirits soar above. 

[63] 



Let no old meeting-house like this 

Lament for days of yore, 
While memoried voices call to us 

From out the heavenly shore. 

Let no old meeting-house like this 

Lament for glory gone, 
While children of its sires remain 

To hand the message on. 

Of noble and of kindly souls 
To-day we have no dearth; 

In every age the Father sends 
His chosen ones to earth. 

In every generation still 
The hand of God is seen, 

His meadows of immortal love 
Are ever fresh and green. 

The lives our fathers lived of yore, 
The fragrance of the past, — 

Each age must add to these a charm 
More gracious than the last. 

And so at this first century mark 
We face the forward slope, 

Our hearts a-thrill with loving faith, 
Our eyes alight with hope, 

Content to know the Father's gifts 
And blessings will not cease. 

Trustful in His abounding love, 
Secure in His great peace. 



[64] 



AT LONDON GROVE QUARTERLY MEETING 

The best of old and new are truly blent 
In this old House among the ancient trees, 

Set round with slopes of wheat and fragrant corn 
That sway and waver in the summer breeze. 

Below the turf in yonder quiet field 

The old-time Quakers long have lain at rest; 

The boxwood and the roses bend above 
The peaceful generations of the blest. 

Yet their immortal spirits look to-day 

From out the kindly faces round me here; 

Their children's children are inheritors 
Of their soul-images beloved and dear. 

The ardor and the impulse that have stirred 
Yon sister pleading for the pure and right, — 

This brother bringing sympathy and hope, — 
Stirred long ago the "Children of the Light." 

As in far times this spacious House was thronged 
With genial elders and with gentle youth 

And bonnie children, — so to-day the old 

And young have come to hark for heavenly truth. 



[65] 



The same heart-hunger deeply moves these Friends 
That moved of yore their venerated sires, — 

Ancestral yearnings for the vi^ord of God, 
Undying hopes and heaven-sent desires. 

Who fears our Faith is dying? — Let him come 
To this old Meeting-house beneath the trees, 

And find celestial balm, while airs float in 

From corn-fields fragrant in the summer breeze. 



AT PLYMOUTH MEETING 

If anywhere is Peace, 'tis here 
Where softly fades the failing year, 

And round this Meeting gray and old 
The great trees drop their leafy gold. 

By this gray wall what joy to stay 
And muse the quiet noon away, — 

So wonderful the day and fair 
Steeped in its pensive misty air, — 

To watch the yellow leaves and slow 
That waver to the ground below. 

And see the insects gleam and pass 
Across the tangles of the grass; 

To ponder on the slow sweet hours 
That breathe the scent of ripened flowers, 

And pacing 'neath the sycamores 

To hear through yonder Meeting doors 

The sound of children's voices sweet 
The text and tender psalms repeat. 

In holy haunts of silence here 

True men have slept for many a year; 

[67] 



Dear saintly mothers 'neath this sod 
Were yielded back unto their God ; 

And in this soft and drowsy air 
I seem to see the children fair 

For whom were shed what wistful tears 
In bygone and relentless years! 

The children, — ah, there sleepeth one 
Great heart beneath yon low white stone 

Who willingly accepted death 

To save one dear child's vital breath ; — 

The Artist he,* whose memory bright 
Is sanctified with peaceful light 

In yonder home, where still they show 
The pictured scenes he used to know. 

Still in his quiet garden old 

The flowers spill their fragrant gold, 

Beyond his orchard shadows still 
Soft sunshine bathes the dreamy hill. 

Across his fields the yellowing wood 
Wears still its rich autumnal mood. 

Tranquil his landscape lies, yet dim 
With wistful memories of him. 

*Thomas Hovenden 



[68] 



Those memories hold a kindly spell 
Beyond my yearning words to tell ; 

For me his name must mingle aye 

With thoughts of Plymouth old and gray 

And golden in the dying year, 
When recollection bears me here, 

When tranquil memory shall recall 
The charm and beauty of it all, 

And kindly friends again I greet 
And hear the children's voices sweet, 

Where ancient sycamores enfold 
The Meeting-house with leafy gold. 



[69] 



IN SWARTHMORE MEETING 

Through Swarthmore's children wander wide, 

In memory they cherish still 

The quiet Meeting-house beside 

The grove on Swarthmore's peaceful hill. 

In this still home of quietude 
The worldly spirit fades away; 
To sober thought we frame our mood 
Here on each tranquil Sabbath day. 

No ritual these precincts know, 
Unless it be when yonder trees 
Responding to soft winds that blow 
Chant forth their leafy litanies. 

And though no organ shake the air. 
No hymns uplift melodious words, 
Yet wandering breezes hither bear 
The anthems of the happy birds. 

And here in musings deep and true 
Communing silently apart, 
We dedicate ourselves anew 
And feel a quickening of the heart. 

[70] 



O rich the many offerings brought 
And yielded on the listening air, 
The poet's pure immortal thought, 
The sage's precept large and fair! 

And rich the messages of truth 

From riper souls among us here, 

Sweet words that still the doubts of youth 

And point the path of duty clear. 

What seeds of good those words may be 

In this retired and holy time. 

Amid so fair a company 

In life's receptive, ardent prime! 

Though Swarthmore's children wander wide, 

In memory they cherish still 

The quiet Meeting-house beside 

The grove on Swarthmore's peaceful hill. 



[71] 



WEST CHESTER MEETING-HOUSE 

My boyhood dreams come back to me, 
Old Meeting-house, at thought of thee: 

The peaceful charm, the balmy air, 
The gentle, gentle faces there. 

The musing pensive people bound 
In quietude serene, profound. 

The sense of brotherhood and love 
Borne as on w^ings of heaven's dove. 

The sympathy that seemed to roll 
From heart to heart and soul to soul. 

The sign and seal of heavenly grace 
On many a sweet and kindly face, 

That rapt and wistful seemed to bless 
With depths of wondrous tenderness. 

The sense of deep thanksgiving there 
In uttered word and silent prayer. 

The nearness of the Father's arm 

To shield His well-beloved from harm. 

When in that hour to us was given 
Some foretaste of the peace of heaven. 



[72] 



OLD QUAKER 
MEETING-HOUSES 

(with a few recent ones) 



'*/ love old Meeting-houses 



■Illllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllilllllllllllill^ 




Abington, P/i 



llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll 




Alloways Creek, Hancocks Bridge, N. J., 






Illlllllillllllilllllllllllllillllillllllllllllllill 



II 




Amesbury, Mass. 



Illllllllillllilllllllllllll 







■IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII 




^ilHHl^Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiilillliil 



■Illlllllllll 




llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllilllllllllllllllllllllll^ 







^ 



IRWINGHAM, Pa. 



■ 




IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIilllB 




BORDENTOWN, N. J. 



Illllllllillllllillillllilllllllllllllllilllllllllll^ 




■■Ill 




^MS^ 



JUCKINGHAM, Pa 



■llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllliillllllllilllllllli^ 




JURLINGTON, N.J. 



■Illllllllllillllllill 



liilllililllllllllllllllllillllllllllllllillll 




■lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllliililll 







1I1I11IIII1III1IIIIIIIIII1IIII1IIII1II1II 



llllllllllllillllllllllll 




■Illlllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll 




Camden N, J. 



Illlillllllillllllllll 



lllllllliilllllillllllllH 




Cape May, N. J. 






IIIIIIIIHIHIillll 




Chester, Pa. 



IIIIIIII1II1I1IIIIIIIIIIIII1II1II1I1I11IIIII1IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII1IIIIIIIIIII 




iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 






^•V'^A*, 




Chappaqua, N. Y 



■ I 



llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll 



Illlllllilllllliilllilll 




Center, Christiana Hundred, Del 



■llillllllllllllllllllllllllliilllllllllllllllllllllllllll 




Clinton Corners, N. Y. 



■Illllilllllllllllllllllllllllllllllljlllllllllill Illlll Ill 




Coldstream, Ontario 






llllllllillillll 







Chichester, Pa. 



■llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll^BI 



lllllllllllllllilil 



lilllll 



liilllllllllllililllliilllllllllllililiil 




lllllllllillll 




CONCORDVILLE, Pa. 



■II 







lllllllllllllllllllllilllllllllllllllllllllllllllll 




Concord, near Colerain. Ohio 




Darby, Pa. 






IB 




II I I i|i 



Darlington Mc 



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■)[ 



llllllliliilll 




Crosswicks, N.J. 




DOYLESTOWN, Pa 



llllllilllllllllllllllllllll 



llllllllllllllllliillllllllllilllilH 




Illlllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllillilll^ 




East Branch, N. J. 



llllillllllllllliillililllllllililllllllllllllllL JJllllllB 



i^ 



'^'s^' 



^^^m 



East Nottingh 




Easton, Md. 






I 




Easton, N. J. 



■Illllllllllllllllllllllllllllllili 




Ellicott City, Mc 



lllllllllllllll! 




■Illlllllllllllllllllllllillllllllllllllllllllllllllll 






Illlllllllll 




EVERSHAM, N. J. 



■Illllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllilllllll 




Fair Hill, Phila., Pa. 



■■: - ■.■■ . ,Z. .^ 







Illlllllll 



liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiia 




Flushing, L. 






Illllllllllllllillllllllllllllllllillllillllllllll^ 




Farmington, Pa 



lilllllilllillilllllllllllllllilllillllllilllllllil^ 




Frankford, Phila., Pa. 



■Illlllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllli 




Illlllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllliilllllllllllllllllllil^ 




GiRARO Avenue, PHiuADEUPh 



iillillllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll 



■III 




Illllllllllllllllllllilllllllllllllllllllllllilllllllll 



■iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 




i 



Grange, Irelanc 



lllllllllllllllll 




Granvilie, N. Y 



■llllilllllllllillilllllllillllllllllillllllllllllll^ 




Green Street, Philadelphia 







GWYNEDD, Pa. 




HAnDONFIELO, N. J. 




■Illlllllllillllllllillllllllllllllllllllllilllllil 




Hopewell Va. 



Illlillllllllllllllllllllllllllilllllllllllllllllllllllllll 



lllilllliililllllillllllllllllllllll^ 



!llill!lll!il 




HOCKESSIN, Del. 



■IllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllJIIilllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll^ 




Horsham, Pa. 






■I 



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Jericho, N. Y. 



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JoRDANs, England 



■lllllllllllllllllllillllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll 



Illilll 




Kennett Square, Pa. 



Illlllllllllllllllllilllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll 



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Lambertville, N, J. 






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Lansdowne, Pa. 






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Lower Greenwich, N. J. 






Illlllllililllllllilllllllllllllllllllllllllllilllllilllli 





■1IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII1IIII1IIIIII1I1II1III11IIIIIII1I1IIIIIIIIII1IIIIIIII1IIII1IIII1III1IIIII1IIIE 




Manhasset, L. I. 



Illllllllillllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll^ 



■Illlllllilllllllllllllllllllllllljllllllllllllllllil 




Mansfield N. J. 



1I1IIII1IIIIIIIIIII1IIIIII 




Maple Grove, Ind. 



Illllllllllllllllllllllllllilllllll 



illllllllllllllllllllllllllllllillllll 




Marietta, Iov 







Marlborough, Pa. 







Matinecock, L. 



Ilillllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllil 




Medford, N. J. 



Illllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll^ 




■ 



IIIM^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 







MiDDLETOWN, Pa. 



■Illllllllllllllllllilllllllllllllllllllllllllll 



ll 




Mill Creek, Del. 



■ Illlllllllllllllllllllllllillllllllllllllllllllllllllllll 



■Illllllillllllllllllllllll 




Milton, Ind. 




MOORESTOWN, N . J 



■ IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII^ 



m 




HI 




Mount Holly, N. J. 




Mount Pleasant, Ohio 



lllilllllllllllllliilll 




Nantucket, Mass. 



llllllililllllllllillllllllllllllllllB 



Illlllllllllll 





New Garden, Pa 




Newtown, Pa. 



■liililH 



IB 





Newtown Square, Pa. 



■II1II1I1IIII1II1IIIII1I 



IIIIIIIII1II1IIIII1II1II1II1II1IIII1IIIIIII 



■Illllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll 




Nine Partners 



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in 




NORRISTOWN, Pa. 



■iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii::::':: 






1 




Northwest Fork 



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Odessa, Del. 




yj~^II^J2^^ 



Old Concord, Pa. 



■Illllllilill 



llllilllllllllllil 







Old Kennett, Pa 







Old Radnor, Ithan, Pa 



Illlllllllllllliliilllllilllill 




Orange Grove, Pasadena, Cal. 




Oswego, N. Y. 



iilllllliillllllllllllllllllilllillliilllllllllll 




Parkersville, Pa. 







Pawling, N. Y. 




Pendleton, Inc 




Penn Hill, Pa. 



■lillllllllllllllllllllllE' " llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll 




Pennsburg, Pa. 



Illllllllllllllllll 







Pennsgrove, Pa. 



Illllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll 




PiLESGROVE, N.J. 




■Illllillllilllllillllllllllllilllllllllllllllllllll 




Plainfield, N. J. 



■Illllllllllllllllllllllllillll 




PUUMSTEAD, Pa. 





tf rn'STOi VMM 

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Plymouth, Pa. 



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1 



■llilllllllllllllllllllllillllllllllllililiili 



■Illlillllllllillllllllllilllliliillllllllllillll 



111 




Preston Patricks, Englanc 



lllllllllllllllllllllllllilliiililllilH 



■II1IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII1IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII1IIIIIIIIIII1IIIIIIIIIIII1III 



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Providence, Pa 






Purchase, N. Y. 



HilllnL,:,,,,,,,,!, 



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,^^-'^' 




Quaker Street, N. Y. 




QUAKERTOWN, Pa. 




Race Street, Philadelphi 



■lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll^ 



■ 



jlllllllllllllllllll 




Rancocas, N. J. 






m 




Randolph, Dover, N. J. 



Illlilllilllllllllllllilllllllllllllllilll^ 



Illillllllllllllillllllllllllllllllllillllllllllllllil 




Reading, Pa. 



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Richland, Pa. 



Illlllllllilllllllllllllllllllllllllillllllllllllllllllll 



■ 




Roaring Creek, Pa 



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ROMANSVIILE, P/V. 



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11 








■1 



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lllllllllllllillllillllllB 



■Illllllllliilllllllllilllllllllllllllllllllllllllll 




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Illlllill 



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Short Creek, Emerson, Ohio 



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SOLEBURY, Pa 



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in 




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Stroudsburg, Pa 



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1 


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lllllllllllllllllllllllillllilllllllllllllllll^ 




Stanton, De 



■llllllllllllllllllilllllllllllllllllilllllllilllllllll 




JWARTHMORE, Pa. 



IllllllllllllllllllllllilllllllllllJIIIillllllll 




Near Swedesboro, N.J. 



■Illlilllililllllllllllllllllllilillllllllillllll 







Trenton, N. J. 



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Unionville, Pa. 







Upper Dublin, Pa. 



Illlllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllill 




Upper Greenwich, N. J. 






IIIIIIIIIIIH 



■illllllllllllilllilllllllllllillllllllillllllll 







Uppfr Springfield, N.J. 



■Ilillllllllllllllllllilllllllllllllllllllllilllllilil 




UWCHLAN, LlONVILLE, Pa. 



lllllllllllilllilB 




ViNCENTTOWN, N. J. 



■Illlllllllllllllllllllllllllllllillllllllllll 



lillllillllllllllilliilll 



111 




Warminster, Pa. 




Waterford, V* 






Illlllllllllllllllllllllllllliilllllllllllllllllll 




Waynesville, Ohio 







West Chester, Pa 




West Grove, Ohio 




West LlLERT^ 



lllllllllilllillllllllll 




West Meeting House, Alliance, Ohio 







West Nottingham 



1II1I1II1IIIIIIIIIIIIII1II1IIII1IIIII1IIIIIII1IIII1II1IIIIIIIIII1IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII 



Illllllllilllllllllllliilll 



■ 




Westfield, near Camden, Ohio 



■llillllilillilllliil 







West Philadelphia, Phila., Pa. 



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Wilmington, Del. 



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■, 



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WOODBURY, N. J. 



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WOODSTOWN, N.J. 



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Woolwich, N. J. 



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Wrightstown, Pa. 



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Yardleyvilie, Pa. 



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